No campfires for me last night, I’d decided. Instead, I elected to wander away into the day that followed flame as I left the camp behind: Sun blazing on one side, Moon cool and pale on the other. Maple’s yellow leaves fell mystic around me, an autumn kind of sakura celebration lacking only the plum wine for the stream ran beside me, falling over stones and breaking white the reflection of the sky.
An explosion of leaves proceeded a bounding red fox trying to reach Sun, then burrowing down in a dive. If the hillside had been water, she would have made a fantastic dolphin, only colored blaze and black, living firestorm in as sea of amber and gold.
I would have, could have watched that dance for hours, if the corner of my eye had not caught the happening occurring on my moonside.
That slope was adrift in snow and twilight, and bursting through the powder leapt an arctic fox, in the purest of white — so white that snow seemed mottled monotone greys and she shone brilliantly in the motherlight Moon.
And I slowed my walk between the two, watching as they took turns touching the skies and the calmly fevered dance they shared.
It would have been enough if that was the only move, but then they switched hillsides, each taking a turn. Sometimes they would meet in the middle and spin suspended before diving down, plunging in to leaves and drift.
I had hoped to watch for an eternity, but even beauty must rest. Eventually, they bolted forward, past trees and mountains into the unknown while my stream, so shallow and narrow as to not need a ford itself made a dance of the hills and twisted while wending on.
4 responses to “Campfire Sessions — 13apr25”
There’s that Sakura again. She’s caught you in your dreams.
It’s more of the cherry blossom in this case than the character.
Fantastic. The ending is especially moving.
Thank you. Glad you liked it 🙂